Warm and Fuzzy
by Princesslishus
Summary: Choosing who to make an example from of Rick's group, Lucille lands on Tamara, a young woman, who asks Negan if she can say a few things to the people she's been through hell and back with before she dies. Oneshot I'm extending, rated T for swearing/violence/gore. Likely will change to M. Eventual OC/Negan
1. Chapter 1

"Eeny…meeny…miny…mo…catch…a tiger…by…his toe…if…he hollers…let him go…my…mother…told…me…to….pick…the….very….best….one…and…you…are… _it."_

Rick gasped out a, " _No."_

Negan looked down the barrel of Lucille to see who was the lucky recipient and locked eyes with a very young woman. Unnerved, he continued.

"Anybody moves-"

"Excuse me?" A quiet, slightly accented voice interrupted him and his eyebrows raised, turning back to where the voice had come from.

"I was wondering if I could, just have a minute? To say goodbye…if that's okay?" The woman asked. Her voice wasn't scared, but her big blue eyes were pleading with him. Hell, he was going to kill her anyway, he could only oblige a polite young lady.

" _Sure._ " He smiled, watching her reaction as he twirled Lucille. Her eyes glanced at it, but he didn't see fear there, just...he couldn't even pinpoint it.

"Uh...thank you. I just wanted to give you all a warm and fuzzy to leave you with."

 _A warm and fuzzy? What the fuck's that?_

" _Ra-_ " Rick groaned.

"Rick, you'll get your turn, hush now." She said, a touch of sarcasm in her voice but it was dulled by how gently she said it.

She looked to her left to the person at the start of the group and then back at him.

"Is it alright if I tell everyone a little something?" She asked. Still so polite. He corner of his mouth twitched up.

"Go ahead, as long as you say something about me." He smirked and she looked at him, nodding her head.

"I can do that." She said, continuing to nod as she looked back up to the first guy on the left. Her voice was surprisingly confident as she spoke.

"Eugene, you're one smart motherfucker. You keep doing that thing you're planning on doing. You work on anything that pops in your head. You could be the father of the new modern age. You're going to pull everyone out of the dark ages we're currently living in, so just know, you're not allowed to die. Okay? And don't ever cut your mullet off. By the time _you_ die, I want that party in the back to be flowing in the wind like you're Legolas."

The man was already blubbering and nodding through his tears. Negan exhaled and shifted Lucille to his other shoulder.

"Carl, baby. You've grown up to be so strong, but I want you to remember to feel. When you're at home and you're safe and you don't _need_ to be on the watch for walkers, I want you to read and have fun like a normal kid, okay? You need that side of you, even if you don't think you do. It's what will help you sleep at night. And you need that side for Judith. Okay? Will you tell her about me when she's older? I love her so much."  
The boy nodded stoically. Future serial killer indeed.

"Aaron, I wish you all the happiness in the world. You're such a lovely man. Thank you for saving us. You're a damn good friend and you're part of our family now."

"Sasha, I know we don't talk much, but I know you've been going through a pretty dark patch after Tyreese and Bob. They were such lovely people, and you don't know how happy it's made me to see you getting better recently. You look so much happier. You're a damn good asset to the team, and it's good to have you back. Keep getting stronger, honey. You're a badass."

"Rick, my apocalypse buddy, we started this shit storm together and I'm sorry we couldn't end it together." Her voice cracked. "I _really_ wanted to see how this crap panned out, but hey, maybe I'll still get to see, you never know. If I see Lori and Shane and Dale…and god, there's so many. Oh, I hope I see Hershel! I'll tell them all you said hi. Rick I know things've been tough lately, but I'm telling you now, you're not allowed to lose your shit again. Everyone needs you. You're _such_ a good leader, you've got us this far, and even though I'll be smashed into the ground in a sec-" Negan's eyebrow arched again as he looked at her. Who was this chick? "-You gotta' keep on plodding and get the rest over whatever finish line there is. You made so many homes for me, Rick. I was stranded and you gave me your home and then you gave me your next home and your next and your next and when we didn't have a home, it didn't matter because you gave me your family, and I'll love you forever, you big bearded idiot."

She looked to the sick woman beside her.

"Maggie, you've lost so much and I hope you and Gleggie make it through too." She looked up at him pointedly then, stopping her _warm and fuzzy_. "We were on our way to a hospital, you know." She said contritely. "She could be having a miscarriage for all we know, but whatever, kneeling out here getting my brain bashed to pieces is another good way to spend the evening I guess." Her voice softened as she talked until she was practically joking with him and he just stared at her.

"Mags, you're a badass lady and you're doing a damn good job with Alexandria. Continue, my friend. Continue. And always remember that we're all here for you. We're your family too. I might be mush, but I'll do my best to haunt your ass."

She turned her head to the red-head brick house next to her.

"Abe, you're a damn fine soldier, you keep us safe, you always make me laugh, I always feel protected with you near me – I _still_ feel protected with you near me. You give the best hugs and you're a fuckin' tank."

"Michonne, you walked in on the scene like someone out of an action movie and you haven't let up on that image. You're a badass motherfucker – I'm sorry, I keep saying badass, but it's true. I love your sword. You're perfect for Rick – send me postcards in Heaven if you have babies."  
The woman in question appeared to choke on air.

"Daryl, you bring a lot to our family. I thought you were a bit shifty when I first met you – yeah, you know it – but you proved us all wrong, again and again and again. You're ace on the crossbow-" She looked back to Negan. You need to get that crossbow off Dwight and get it back to Daryl at _some_ point, because it is a crime and _you don't deserve the crossbow, Dwight! Or the bike!"_ She shouted. Negan stepped back, looking at Dwight, grinning wryly. Dwight didn't look too impressed.

"Daryl, you're my cinnamon roll…Give the world hell."

"Rosita, you are the personification of beautiful, strong, independent woman. You're going to rock this from here, and I know you've been struggling recently. It's all natural. You'll find your feet again. And you really rock the cap and pig-tails."

"Glenn, you were just a pizza delivery boy and now you're you. You being the guy that self-sacrifices at every turn, the guy that got the hot girl, the guy that I can trust with anything, the guy who I'm proud of."

"Dwight! I wanna' do one for you, my man. We met in the woods. You had your wife and that other girl with you. You were running away from this man." She gestured at Negan. "You stole Daryl's fucking crossbow and his fucking bike and I'll never forgive you for that. Then you turned up again with your fucked up face and no wife and I've heard things about Negan and wives and I'm wondering did he steal yours?" She looked at Negan now and pretended to whisper discreetly to him, part was still easily audible. "Did you steal his wife and burn his face for his efforts and now he's your lapdog?"

Negan couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face.

"You totally did!" And she mimed a whip cracking at Dwight. His hand was twitching on the crossbow he held.

"You killed Denise and she was a really nice person who didn't deserve a fucking _arrow through the eye_ or to be _just left there_ , so deal with the cards you're dealt, Dwight."

She looked around a second before pointing at Negan's second in command. He looked startled to say the least.

"You! You look the guy from Grand Theft Auto. That's all I have to say to you."

And then she looked up at him. There was a quiet strength to her. He could see that in the way she was holding herself up. And he could also see _her_ cracks. The way she worried the right a piece of fluff on the left strap of her shirt. How her eyes seemed to be getting bluer by the second. He was surprised she was actually doing this thing with him, he'd just been joking.

"And…you, Negan! Holy cow, you're just..." She waves her hands at him to try and convey what she means. "I'm Tamara, by the way. Thought you should know that, though it probably doesn't mean anything to you…I mean, the leather jacket- I saw you walk out of that caravan and I was like, _holy shit_. That's a jacket. That's one _hell_ of a jacket. You are wearing it. And it's so fitted. Like, _so_ fitted. I can't even begin to comprehend it. And the _scarf_. I mean, no offense, but it _should_ look gay, but it doesn't. Like not even a tiny bit. It just looks badass. I keep saying badass. I hope my last words aren't badass, bloody hell. And the pants too. It's unreal. You're unreal. Even your personality. It's so _dominant_. Like you walk out here and if I hadn't already been forced to my knees, I would've probably fell to them anyway. I didn't even notice your shoes. They're cool too. What the fuck. And dare I mention the bat. Lucille, did you call it? You named your bat. And it's covered in barbed wire. What are you on? That's rivalling how cool I think Michonne's sword is. I'm kind of glad that it's you who's going to be killing me, because I can honestly say, you're pretty damn amazing, all in all."

She sighed long and hard. Negan couldn't help but feel a little flattered. The honesty that was spouting out her mouth was something you didn't see everyday.

"Well…I think that's about all I got in me. I actually feel kind of exhausted. Okay. _Alrighty then_. This feels so unreal but then way too real at the same time. Make it a good first shot, will you? I really feel like I'm not going to be able to hold it together that well if I'm still kicking after the first round."

"I can do my best, doll." He answered her softly. Since when was he talking softly? She nodded, as if she understood she could very well still be conscious after the first blow and didn't blame him.

He huffed out a breath of air, and shifted his feet a little wider as he hoisted Lucille up onto his shoulder.

"Uh-" A timid voice from the first person she'd complimented. The crying man with the mullet she'd told to never cut. "Could…could we say something…to her?" He asked.

Negan deliberated that a moment. He couldn't really see why _not_ , since there was nothing else to do. He had them exactly where he wanted them. He could see Rick cracking. Surely drawing this out even longer would just make it harder for _them_ all. Widen Rick's cracks until his sanity just _seeped_ out. He'd been hoping for a challenge with him, and what he'd gotten was a weathered man about to have a breakdown over _one_ member of his group. The woman herself had bigger balls than him. She dared to halt his process, looking straight down the barrel of Lucille, and he had to respect that.

" _Sure._ " Negan answered the man, the word rolling off his tongue like warm honey. The man looked surprised, but relatively relieved that he could say what was so obviously pressing on his mind.

"You wanna' give me a warm and fuzzy?" She said, a little shock lacing her tone.

"Um." He stuttered. What a great way to start, Negan tittered in his head.

"Tamara, I think we all know that you are a very nice person." The man had a halting way of speaking, like a robot. The only thing that made him sound remotely human were the snivelling tears he was failing to hold back. "From the moment I m-met you, you always seemed to understand that I was…different. But you treated me not in a way that made me feel different, but made me feel like I was normal. And I want to th- thank you for that."  
Negan glanced at the woman in question and she had an odd look on her face, like she was thinking of something long ago.

"Could I-?" Rick's son wanted a turn and the crying man nodded. He looked pained, but he spoke confidently and genuinely. His interest had been peaked when he'd met the kid, but this was just adding to it. It was like he was a pillar and had accepted that role long ago. "Ra Ra-"

 _Ra Ra?_ Negan's mind quirked and he could swear he must have made a weird expression, if anyone was looking at him.

"-You never let anything that's happened change you. You've always been kind, you've always been helpful, you've always been there, you're always building people up. You have a…a _power_ to keep people fighting because you give them back their strength in themselves, and we're all going to notice that when you're gone. Whenever we feel weak, whenever we feel down, whenever we feel that we can't go on – the only thing that's going to pop in our heads is you. Because I know you'll always be there, even if it's just the way we remember you. You'll always make us strong."

" _Carl-"_ She whispered, but it was audible all the same.

Not bad, kid. Negan thought. Definitely wise beyond his years.

"Uh, Tam- Sorry, I know you hate being called that." It was the next guy's turn and Negan almost snorted. "I-I know we haven't known each other long, but when I was listening to you guys in the woods-"

 _Wait, what?_ Negan looked at him pointedly.

"-You stood out to me because, like Carl said, you were all in a pretty bad situation, but whenever things started getting really low, you somehow always managed to pull some half-cocked idea out of your ass that if I hadn't come and offered for you to come to Alexandria, you might have actually had something going. Survivalist, sure, but I recall you being frequently self-sacrificing and that really helped me decide that you were a group to be trusted. Knowing you personally now, you're one of the most trustworthy people I've ever met, and if I could cut out my heart-" His voice was breaking. "-and give it to you to protect, I know that you'd keep me safe."

Negan glanced back over to her and she was obviously struggling, her lip worried between her teeth as she watched the trees moving in the wind above her.

The next woman cleared her throat.

"Tamara, you're right when you say we haven't really gotten to know each other super well, but I'd like you to know, before you go, that sometimes…sometimes I'd sit near you, because I knew that you knew that I just…needed what you seemed to know that I needed- I sound so stupid-"

There was murmured 'no-s' and 'go on-s' from the group.

"You're…um, you're presence, is a comforting one-"

Definite nods from the group now.

"-And I'll notice when you're not there. I really… _really_ will. And I want you to know, that if we get to take you _home_ , I'll be visiting you. I'll be visiting you everyday, so you're not alone.

Tamara let out a frustrated and shaky noise and Negan saw her scrub her face as she struggled to stay composed. He saw her glance over at Rick who was about to speak, and seeing his face, she threw her head back, shaking her head.

"Fucking hell, Rick, don't look at me like that!" Her voice was warbling with how much her bottom lip was quivering.

" _Ra,_ " He started, pausing to wipe his nose with the back of his hand and rake his hair of his forehead, visibly straining the skin. "Ra… you are family. You'll always be family. You'll _always_ be family."  
Negan spotted Carl's mouth quiver.

"You looked after my babies, and you looked out for them like your own after Lori was gone."

Rick was visibly struggling to get this out, but he was persevering, Negan had to give him that.

"You've been _consistently_ by my side. You're _always_ there. I never felt like I _had_ to watch my back during the winter because you were my…my damn shadow. Your thing…with Shane… I know it's haunted you, but I want you to know that if you hadn't been there for him…he'd have probably succeeded at killing me. He was going… _insane_ , but you held him together, and it was obvious to everyone that you _were_ his sanity. You're a damn rock."

Negan half wanted to know the story behind this Shane, now. Rick took a deep shaky breath.

"You've been with me from the start, you keep me moral, and you're the bird that whispers in my ear. You're the heart, and you keep track of everyone's emotional wellbeing and I think it's safe to say that along with Shane, you've kept us _all_ sane, these long past years. It'll be interesting to see how long I keep it together after this, huh?" He grinned brokenly and she shook her head, smiling sadly.

The next people passed along with various things to say, but one requested to speak last. The one Dwight seemed to hate with such a passion. When it was finally his turn, he seemed to square himself as he looked straight at her.

" _Ra_ , everyone's been…talkin' 'bout your personality and stuff. And I agree with all of it, but you were mentioning about how we all brought something to the table, and I just – I wanted to talk about your _skills_ and accomplishments…'coz of…uh, what you told me a while back…'bout yourself."

And what was that? Negan wondered.

"First of all, you're damn good at taking out walkers. Never _had_ to worry bout'cha. I always do, but that's just me. You're not shabby with Michonne's sword, I – hah – I actually think you liked that too much, and I was on the lookout for one for ya', but I never found one. If I do, I'll still bring it to you. You're smart as hell. Thought you were stupid always picking up books and rippin' pages out along the way, but you-you proved yourself with that shit. You just soaked that shit up, and got us through some stuff. We'll definitely be worse off next time we need to eat…mushrooms or somethin'. Your art is insane, and I…I told you that I threw that one away that you drew for me after we had that fight, but um, I want you to know that I kept it…and I'll…I'll keep it till the day I die. Just wish I'd gotten you to draw more, now, huh?

I want to go through the shit we been through. That you've survived. And I think _this prick-_ " He growled at Negan who smirked at him, arching an eyebrow, "-Should know what he's ending, because you don't fuckin' deserve it!

You survived the start, which is no small thing, besides the fact you were in a country you didn't know and got separated from the people you did. You survived Atlanta, you…you survived Merle, you survived Shane, you survived the winter, you survived getting in the prison, you survived the shit storm that was that stinkin' Governor, you survived Merle _again,_ you survived the sickness, you survived _the_ _Governor_ again, you survived being on your fuckin' own after the prison came down and you shouldn't have had to do that, you should have had someone with you, and then you survived them _fuckin'_ cannibals, and you survived the Wolves and you survived _that_ fuck!"

Negan turned to see he was indicating Dwight.

"And you survived this…up until now, all with those rotting geeks around every corner. But most importantly…you also survived you."

" _Daryl_ ," she moaned, covering her face.

"Because you told me that you had depression and anxiety all before this, and that you had to stop taking your meds. And so you've survived all this…while battling _yourself_ everyday. You're the bravest person I know, and I feel like this is Beth happening all over again but this time it's being drawn out like a damn wound."

The sick-looking woman next to Rick made a pained groaning noise and Negan spotted several tears escape Tamara, her hands clasped over her mouth as if she was stopping herself from screaming. She took her hands away, and took a long controlled breath.

"Okay." She said. "Tell everyone back home I love 'em, yeah?" Those blue eyes looking back up at him. "Do you…do you mind if I lay down for this?" She asked.

He frowned. Lay down?

"Well…sure. No one's every done _that_ before, but sure, go ahead, doll." Now she was 'doll', he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his own idiocy. Should've just clonked her on the head and been done with it. She started to bend, but straightened back up and _pointed_ at him.

"Remember, try and do it in one shot, yeah?" She watched him for an answer and he nodded, unwilling to break eye contact. She proceeded to lie down and then abruptly burst into hysterical tears. He almost jumped.

"I'm sorry," She said, resting on one arm while she half waved at him, half tried to stop the flood coming out of her, "I'm just panicking a bit. Just ignore me."

She then lay down properly, but it kind of gave him the willies when she pulled her body into a fetal position and cried into her knees. It wasn't even annoying crying, it was just sad, and she was obviously trying to stop herself. He could see several of his men shuffling in discomfort in his peripheral vision. He moved Lucille to his other shoulder as he contemplated the way he'd do this. She wanted it done in one shot…he could take that as a challenge for himself.

"Wait!" She suddenly said, her head popping up as she looked to the other side of the group.

"Carl, do you have anything of Judy's?" She asked brokenly. Everything she said made Negan want to frown.

The boy hesitantly rustled in his jacket, trying not to seem like he was about to grab a knife and get himself shot. He pulled out a small pale green bear. Negan stared at it. The boy glanced up to him, silently asking if he could give it to her. He sighed.

"Dwight!" Negan barked. The scarred man jumped and stepped forward. "Give her the fucking teddy for fuck's sake."

The man nodded and snatched the bear from Rick's son, making his way to the still sobbing girl. He dropped it on her shoulder and Negan rolled his eyes. Fuckin useless. She shuffled to pick it up and curled back into her fetal position, tucking the bear within her body. He didn't miss the quiet "Thanks, Dwight." That made the man glance back at her before hurrying off.

Her crying was quieting now, and her breathing was less erratic. It was still heavy, but she appeared to be gaining control of herself.

The ginger guy next to her reached out slowly and took one of her small hands. He chose to ignore it as he could visibly see the vice grip she had on him.

Stepping closer to her, he was aware of the crunching noise his boots made on the dirt. It seemed so loud. Looking directly down at her, he could she was breathing directly into the bear, the cushioned body pressed straight into her face. It was such a small bear. It was going to be drenched in her blood.

"We love you, Ra." Someone whispered and she nodded frantically, starting a chorus of 'we love you-s'. This entire thing was ridiculous. Negan gripped Lucille tighter. The power he felt at that moment was almost uncomfortable. She was literally _waiting_ for her to kill him, curled at his feet. How vulnerable must that exposed side of her face feel?

Negan paused for a second, glancing down at her.

"How old are you, doll?" He asked, genuinely curious. She was such a pretty thing, but she seemed to have so much experience crammed up inside her.

She sniffed, trying to clear her voice enough to answer him properly.

"Twenty." She said quietly. He felt ice trickle through his veins and he tried to discreetly take the staggering breath his chest needed. What was he doing? He'd killed younger.

 _But it was only one_. Something in the back of his mind said. _And it was a boy. A fuckhead of a kid. Not a frightened young girl._

He wanted to slap himself. _Why_ was he doubting? It had to be done. Things _had_ to be done, and this was one of them. He didn't take things back.

 _She shouldn't even be out here._ His mind whispered. _She should be locked up in her community, protected from this shit._

His head was whirling and he struggled to keep a blank look on his face.

"Fuck this." He muttered to himself.

And then he swung Lucille.

* * *

 _I really don't know if this is any good._

 _I can leave it there, but I do have a vague idea if you want me to continue this. I had this idea while just sitting in my room and I do this thing where I act out ideas, and afterwards I felt like it needed to be written down. I really just improvised this whole scene and remembered what I'd done afterwards, I didn't plan any of this so what you read is what I actually did. I was crying a bit as I was thinking of what Daryl would say but it was when I went to lie down that I actually had a bit of a breakdown and realised that's probably exactly what you'd do if you were doing that - it was quite confronting._

 _Let me know what you thought. Is it too corny or did you actually get upset? I never really have a gauge on my own writing and it's 4am…I need to be up for school in 3 hours…_

 _Review, favourite, follow, let me know if you want to know what happens or if you want me to build a story from this, or should I just leave it as a one shot. I'll leave it up to you, and I'll try and get 3 hours sleep for my exams._


	2. Chapter Two - White Winged Dove

Warm and Fuzzy Chapter Two – White Winged Dove

 _The response to the last post has been overwhelmingly positive, so I'd like to thank everyone that favourited, followed and those that reviewed. I ended up finishing it at about 5:30am, and I got so many reviews just within those couple hours afterwards, even within the first hour while I was still struggling to sleep at 6, so it really means a lot. You all are wonderful, so I'm going to start extending this. I think I'm going to try structuring the chapters with the first half as a flashback, as some of you were curious as to the background of the things they talked about in the last chapter. Second half will be a continuation of the plot, so it's a little bit of teasing if it was a cliffhanger - sorry. I'll try and follow the TV show, but I'll be doing it as each episode comes out, so forgive me if I miss any foreshadowing or anything. I haven't read the comics, but I've researched quite a bit. I'll always let you know if I go back and make edits. I made some tiny changes to the last chapter. You don't really need to read over it, but you can if you want - I just added a line here and there. Let me know what you think of the format, and thanks again for your support. I'll try and do this well._

* * *

 _ **THEN**_

Rick woke to the apocalypse gently.

"That vase, that's something special. Fess up. You steal it from your Grandma Jean's house? I hope you left her that spoon collection."

He giggled, but he wheezed and the giggle turned into a cough.

"Shane?" He called hoarsely, raising his head to find him.

"What vase?"

He looked over to a person in the doorway, confused. They were wearing motorcycle gear. He looked over to the vase and saw the flowers inside were now dried and shrivelled and he fingered them, bits breaking off, as he tried to establish what was going on. How much time had passed? He looked to the clock. It had stopped ticking at 2:17.

He blinked, trying to comprehend.

"Are…are you the…the nurse?" He asked haltingly.

Why did he ask that? She was wearing leathers and a helmet. He didn't miss her glance behind herself warily before stepping further into the room and closing the door. She re-checked the door. She then removed the helmet and he saw that she was just a seventeen-maybe eighteen year old girl. She was quite pretty, besides the fact she didn't look like she'd washed in…a while. She had dirt on her face and lines of white where the sweat had dripped down her face through it. Dyed blonde hair that had since faded fell from the helmet and settled just past her chin in unruly greasy waves. Her darker roots were starting to become visible too. Placing the helmet on the dresser, she looked at him. Big blue eyes caught his.

"No, I just walked in here and you woke up." She said simply. She had an accent. British?

He frowned at her. He was feeling very wary of this situation.

"Then why are you- Can you get me a nurse from-" He nodded behind her. "-Out there."

"Theres…there's no nurses." She replied. Australia. Her accent was Australian. Her tone was confused, though. Why _confused_?

"What?" He eloquently asked again.  
"There's no nurses." She repeated. "How long have you been here?

"I-I don't understand. Why are there no nurses?"

"There'll all gone. You know? They've gone home or they went with everyone else. Or they might even be in the cafeteria or outside." She tried to explain, but it still didn't add up. There was something missing.

"Then…can't you get me one from either of those places?"

"I-I can't… _get_ a nurse from there – have you been…have you been in here all this time? Since before?"

"Before what?" Rick groaned, straining to raise himself from the bed.

"Before _everything?_ It's been months."

" _Months?_ I-" Rick pushes himself to his feet and his legs promptly gave out, knocking the IV stand over with him.

"Oh my god, are you alright?!" The girl squeaked, running over to him. He felt so dazed – couldn't she just tell him what was going on and why there were no nurses?

"You shouldn't be making loud noises here!" She hissed as she helped him struggle to his feet.

"What?" He asked for what felt like the hundredth time. She allowed him to grip her arm and he self consciously tried to pull the sides of the gown together a bit, his midsection was wrapped in bandages – old bandages by the look of them and how they hadn't been changed with the amount of fluid from the wound that had seeped through and oxidised.

"Are you telling me the last time you were awake, everything was normal?" She prodded.

"It-It was hardy normal – I got shot!" He exclaimed.

"But-but _the walkers._ They weren't around yet?"

"What day is it?" He asked.

"I don't know." She shrugged.

"Day of the week?"

"Wouldn't have a clue. I haven't been paying attention." She said simply. How could she not know what day of the week it was?

" _Month_?

Her mouth screwed up as she deliberated.

"I think its July." She answered hesitantly.

 _2 months._

"You _think_? He said slowly. Was she a junkie or some kid on the street or something?

"I told you, I haven't been keeping track. And its not like you can just check your phone and see. It's hot though." She said. " _Should be fuckin' winter."_ He heard her mumble to herself. Why was she wearing motorcycle gear during summer? _Inside?_ 2 months he'd been out. He needed to find Lori and Carl.

"I-I need to tell my family I'm awake." He stuttered.

"Your family? Mate, they could be anywhere." She shook her head.

"I need to go home." He said, staggering towards the door.

"Hey, hey, hey, stop!" She said, blocking his path. When he stopped she reached to the side, pulling open several of the drawers in the dresser the room had.

Throwing something at his feet, he looked down and saw some hospital issue slippers.

"Are you a mental patient or what?" She asked incredulously.

"I told you, I got _shot_. I'm a police officer." He repeated, annoyed, but he put on the slippers.

"Did you shoot yourself? Because you're going to die in two seconds if you leave here and don't know what's going on." She said cryptically.

"Can you just tell me _what is going on?"_ He asked sternly and she frowned at the tone he was using.

"The walkers." She said matter-of-factly.

"What walkers?" He pressed.

"Couple months back…uh, people started getting sick. They got sick _really_ fast. And then they'd change and… _attack_ other people and make them sick. I was here with a student exchange program and I was with my host family and those sick people, they were _everywhere_ like a fuckin' swarm and the people I was with, they just left and I was by myself and everything went to shit. The government was bombing the city; people were getting eaten by the sick people in the street; they were shooting randomly in the street, and this was _everywhere._ Across the world. You could see it on TV until the power went down."

Rick was listening in rapt horror. This had to be a story – a game that she was playing with him.

"I just stayed inside, barricaded the doors and chilled upstairs with some food until it started to quiet down. You could hear it all happening outside. Screaming. And I could hear the sick people – the walkers – come near the house because they make weird noises. After a while I ran out of food, so I came more into town. Almost got bitten for my efforts, but I ran and the one after me left because someone else was screaming in the distance. I went to a shop, and obviously people had raided it like hell, but I holed up in the back room and just took what I liked. Didn't want to hole up the whole shop because people kept barging on in and some people have gone a bit funny – the ones that aren't sick. End of the world and all that. All bets are off. And I came here because I was running out of something. Wouldn't try it earlier, but it's pretty quiet here now."

Rick was staring at her gobsmacked.

"The end of the world?" He repeated.

"Pretty much." She nodded. "Honestly, it's like a movie."

" _The end of the world_." He whispered. His family. If she wasn't lying, his family had been out in that. What if they'd gotten sick too?

He pushed her to the side and stumbled out the door.

"Hey!" She hissed, obviously not wanting to be loud, grabbing her helmet on the way and sliding it back on her head.

What greeted him in the hallway shook him.

Paper was littered everywhere, a bed was haphazardly thrown next to his door with a baseball bat on top of it, and half the lights were off and the ones that were on blinked randomly as if the generator was failing. He started walking haltingly down towards the nurses' desk. He could see a phone.

"Hey!" She was still calling to him as she tried to catch up. "Hey, be careful!"

Reaching the phone, he put it to his ear and…no dial tone. There was a matchbox on the desk and he lit one, trying to get any clue as to why no one was there. Nothing. He stuffed the matchbox in a pocket in his boxers. She caught up to him as he turned a corner, walking up beside him and huffing a little.

"Dude, do you know how hot this thing is?" She complained.

"Then…why do you wear it?" He asked distractedly as he peered through the door's window.

"That's why." She said, following his line of vision to where a fluorescent light was sporadically blinking. Blinking and revealing a body lying in the hallway with each blink. A body who was essentially missing half its body. The face was there, but the rest of it…all the skin was just… _gone_ and it looked like it had been picked clean.

"They can't bite through the leather. I'm sorry, sweetheart." The girl said, looking at his distraught face. "But I tried to tell you."

"What-what's going on?" He asked shakily. He must have asked that a thousand times now.

"End of the world." She repeated soberly, her voice muffled by the helmet. He turned and noticed she had collected the baseball bat and had it secured to her belt with a bungee cord around the handle. He shuffled down the hallway in the opposite direction, grateful that she'd made him wear slippers. He needed to get out. He needed to go home. She just followed quietly behind him. His mouth opened as he took in the line of bullet holes in the wall he passed, and there was blood here. A lot. And it was old – turned a dark brown. It was sprayed across the walls and pooling on the floor. Wiring was hanging from the ceiling like cobwebs in a haunted house.

A door appeared in front of him. It was bolted shut and had a plank of wood through the handles: the cafeteria.

 _Don't open. Dead inside._

She'd told him there might be nurses here but she couldn't get him one. _Dead._

Approaching the door he heard clattering behind it and quiet moaning.

"Come on." The girl said. He kept staring and the moaning was getting louder. Whoever was on the other side of the door pushed on it and it opened a little. It almost sounded like growling.

She'd said the sick people make weird noises.

He was shaking, he couldn't stop himself. And then the door banged violently and he stumbled back a step into her. She gently touched his upper arms.

"Come on." She said again, gently turning him slightly, but still giving him her support. He kept staring at the door. Fingers started to push through and he felt her shudder behind him. He felt panic coming over him and he stumbled away from her to a fire escape.

It was dark inside and he still had his matches, so he lit one. It smelt bad in here. Like someone had died. He didn't want to think about that.

The door behind him opened and the girl walked in as well.

"You can get out through there." She said. "That's how I got in. Prepare yourself, though. It's worse out there, so don't freak out." She warned, voice still muffled. "I can't deal with anymore freaking out – I do enough for myself."

The way she talked so casually about all this, it was still insane, but it made it all feel a little more normal – or not normal, so much as easier to deal with. She was understanding but still pushing him through, not letting him drown in whatever had happened.

Opening the fire escape, he was blinded by the natural light and blasted by the heat. The girl grunted behind him, obviously finding the warmth uncomfortable in her gear.

He moved outside onto a little balcony, shielding his eyes as he made his way down the stairs. She kept following, assessing his reaction and as his eyes got used to the light, he looked up.

Death. So much death.

Bodies and bodies and bodies and _bodies_ , row after row. Most were covered in a sheet, some had their heads poking out and he could see their faces, their feet, lying out in the sun for _two months_. And no one had taken them away. And these were all people. These were people from his town. These could be his family for all he knew.

Flies buzzed everywhere and he teetered on his feet, his mouth gaping. She came up behind him and put a hand on his upper arm, and the other in his own hand.

"I know." She said quietly. "I know. Come on." And she led him through the maze. He was stumbling and she gripped him harder and he was grateful for it, again, leaning into her. He didn't know if he could stand up now by himself.

They passed through the gates, a lot of debris littering the road, and they made their way up the hill.

"Take it slow." She whispered. "Just take it nice and easy and I'll help you."

Making it to the top of the hill, he saw a military helicopter and the area in front of him…It was a warzone.

"What…what happened here?" He asked.  
"They tried to control it." She answered simply.

"Tried." He repeated.

"They failed." She confirmed. "Tell me where to go."  
"I want to go home." He said. His voice was shaking like a leaf.

"Then home, we'll go." She said kindly, squeezing his hand. "I'll get you there."

"Why are you helping me?" He asked after a few seconds.

She thought about that.

"I was all alone when this started." She explained slowly. "I don't want you to feel like that. Especially since you've woken up right in the thick of it. At least what I had was gradual. If this is a nightmare for me, I can't imagine what this is for you."

"You said you went to the hospital for something-" He started, but she stopped him.

"Don't worry about it. I found you instead. Gotta' look after each other." She said genuinely.

"So, you'll…you'll stay with me?" He asked and she looked at him through the helmet.

"If you'll have me." She said finally.

"That…I think that would be for the best." He said, nodding to himself. He already felt like he was going round the bend. He couldn't imagine doing it by himself. Not like this teenager. In a foreign country. For _months._ How had she done it?

"Alright then," She said, grinning under her helmet. "Apocalypse buddy. I'm Tamara, by the way."

"Rick." He replied, feeling her rub his arm with her leather glove comfortingly. "Rick Grimes."

"Let's get you home, Rick."

* * *

 _ **NOW**_

"Fuck this." She heard him mutter and then there was a slight whoosh as he swung the wire covered bat. She flinched in preparation, waiting for her lights to turn off but nothing happened. The hand she was gripping jerked violently. The people from her group gasped chokingly.

 _Abe? ABE!_

Her eyes sprung open and she wished they hadn't because she could see now, Negan had purposefully missed her. Abe's body bowed down to the ground with the impact. He slowly leaned back and blood just began…pouring from his head. Tamara gaped at him. It was supposed to be her. _Goddamn_ , it was supposed to be her! She'd accepted that! She would do it for the others.

 _Abe_.

Negan was saying something but Abe was looking at her. His hand was still in hers and she was still lying on the ground.

"Good _."_ He said meaningfully to her, squeezing her hand before letting it go. " _Good."_

"What was that, Red?" Negan asked cockily.

" _Suck…my…nuts."_ Abe said, glaring back to him, and there wasn't even a second before the bat collided with him again. And again. And _again._ She kept staring. Staring as Abe just… _disappeared._ She flinched as blood sprayed her face.

"You hear that?" Negan asked the gathering when he finally, _finally_ , pulled Lucille away. "He said _suck my nuts!"_

He laughed, a slow, drawn out chortle and then he began swinging the bat again. Every hit – she flinched. Every hit – she watched.

 _It was supposed to be me_.

It continued for a while. It felt like a long while. The bat got flicked and she _heard_ Abe's blood hit somewhere else. The wet little slaps as the drops were splashed. That laugh again.

"You guys! Look at my dirty girl!" Negan announced. She could hear him breathing, huffing with the exertion it had taken to just kill her friend. One of her family.

She heard his boots crunch on the gravel near her head.

"Hell, baby doll, you look a bit shocked. You don't think I'm that much of a fucking monster, do you?" His tone was still cocky, but it was quieter when he talked to her. Addressing the group, he talked louder again. "I ain't gonna' kill some crying chick. Can we get her back in line, for fuck's sake? I feel like I'm gonna' step on her by accident."

She was limp as she felt someone come up behind her and drag her by the armpits into the line. She slumped as they let go of her and she leaned towards Maggie, seeking out the comfort.

Negan was talking again, at the other side of the line, but she wasn't paying attention. She just stared at Abe's head. What _was_ his head.

 _I was ready._

"…and forever will be Red. He just took one or six or seven for the team! So take a damn look. _Take a damn look_!"

Negan was shouting at Rosita and then everything managed to go even more wrong.

Her eyes swung as she heard the impact of fist against skin and she managed to catch Negan's head being thrown violently back as Daryl tried to grab onto his jacket before he was restrained by more Saviours. She watched Negan silently as he wiped his mouth and shook his head, smirking as Daryl was beaten.

" _Daryl!"_ She heard Rick call and Negan immediately swung Lucille so it was pointing straight at his face.

" _No_!" He shouted. Calming down, he started chuckling again, but it was bitter. "Oh _no._ That? Oh my, _that_ …is a no-no. The whole thing. Not one _bit_ of that _shit_ flies here _."_

He knelt down at Daryl's head.

"You wan' me to do it? Right here?" She felt anger rising back into her as she heard Dwight. _Dwight,_ that fuckin' _shit._ With _Daryl's_ crossbow? She'd kill him herself.

" _Nah-"_ Negan said, pulling Daryl by the hair. "Nah, you don't kill that. Not until you try a little."

 _Try?_

Dwight lowered the crossbow and helped two other men drag Daryl back.

"Anyway! That's not how it works." Negan started again, circling the bat at the group. "Now, I already told you people. First one's free! Then what'd I say – I said I'd _shut that shit down!_ No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of _lying_ assholes you been dealin' with, but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important. I need you…to know me. _So_! Back to it."

And then Glenn was on the ground. She physically felt like she'd just been booted in the chest. Maggie gagged on a cry and Tamara's heart wrenched but she couldn't even _move_. Couldn't say a _word_. She was frozen in the complete shock of it.

Maggie let out a _wretched_ scream and that's when they heard the gurgling.

Tamara felt a burst of cold go through her veins. She couldn't look away. And she could only guess at what they were about to see.

Glenn rose back up and…he was…his eye…he was making noises like he was spluttering on his own blood. That would stay with her. That…that was going to stay with her forever.

Her mind flashed to Glenn's voice on the radio in Atlanta. Scaring them as he jumped out of the alley and saved her and Rick's life. Every memory of him.

They were replaced with this.

"Buddy, are you still there?" Negan asked, bending to look at him with genuine surprise. "I just don't know. It seems as if you're trying to speak! But you just took a hell of a hit! I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just _popped out!_ And it is gross as shit!"

 _Stop it._

" _Maggie I'll find you."_

Tamara felt like someone had stuffed a dry sock in her throat and she was choking on it.

 _Kill him. For God's sake, kill him and put him out of his misery. End this._

Negan inspected the group slowly. Everyone was struggling.

 _Kill him!_

"Oh…Oh hell, I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry. I truly am. But I did say – _no exceptions!"_

And he hit him and he hit him and he hit him and he hit him.

"You bunch of pussies! I'm just getting started."

Glenn's body was still moving. He had _no_ head and his body was still _moving_.

"Lucille is _thirsty_. She is a vampire bat!" Negan was stamping around, swinging it. He looked down at Rick who stared stoically ahead. "Why? Was the joke that bad?"

Tamara was zoning out, or zoning in. She wasn't sure. She didn't realise that she had a hand on Abe's ankle and was rubbing it. Should she stop? She didn't want to stop. He needed to know she was there with him.

In the back of her mind she could hear Maggie groaning. Tamara stared at Glenn while she held onto Abe. Trying to do something with her eyes - anything. They needed to be looked after now. They needed respect. Their…their _bodies_ needed respect.

She didn't realise that Rick was being dragged to the van until he was right in front of her.

" _Rick._ " She gasped. She felt a boot kick her in the shoe.

" _Shut up."_ The person spat.

 _What…what do we do? What do we do without Rick, now? Rick solved everything._

She looked up and down the line, looking at the other people, trying to get an idea of what was happening.

 _Are they coming back?_

* * *

By the time the van drove back into the clearing, stones spitting out from under the wheels as it crunched back into its original spot, the people in her group were sagging. Dawn had come and gone and it was well and truly light out. It felt wrong. It was a new day and they were still here. It felt like hours. They were tired, their legs hurt, their _hearts_ hurt.

Tamara was leaning in towards Abe's foot as she compulsively rubbed his leg.

 _Was Rick even still alive?_

She flinched as the door to the van opened suddenly and Rick stumbled and fell out onto the ground. Negan confidently stepped out after him and simply dragged Rick back to the group as he scrabbled along the ground like a dog.

"Here we are." It was weird hearing Negan's voice again after so much silence while they waited. It was a distinctive voice. Low and husky and charming. And dangerous.

"Let me ask you Rick - do you even know what that little trip was even about?"

There was silence.

"Speak when you're spoken to." The command was there.

"Okay." Rick gasped out. " _Okay."_

"That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the _same_ _damn_ _way_. And that's not gonna' work. _So_. Do I give you another chance?"

Rick was on his hands and knees.

"Yeah." He said, bobbing his head. "Yes. Yes."

"Okay. Alright! The grand prize game. What you do next will decide if this becomes everyone's _last_ crap day or just _another_ crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads. Good. Now, level with their noses so when they fire-" He made an explosive noise. "-It will be a real fuckin' mess."

"Kid." Negan said suddenly, looking at Carl. Dread settled in Tamara's heart. "Right here. _Kid. Now._ "

 _No, baby._

Carl got up and walked over to Negan. He was stoic and looked straight into the man's eyes.

"You a south paw?" Negan asked.

"Am I a what?" Carl bit back defiantly.

"You a leftie?" Negan revised. Carl shook his head, still glaring at him.

Negan's eyebrows raised, staring back. "Good." He finally said.

Tamara noticed him undo his belt and pull it out and she frowned.

He whipped the belt around Carl's arm, tightening it; and the relief she felt that something _else_ wasn't going to happen started to dissipate as she thought about why he'd need a tourniquet.

"That hurt?" Negan asked.

"No."

" It should.. Supposed to." Negan replied, eyeing Carl off. "A'right. Get down on the ground kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings. Simon? Gotta pen?"

The guy she thought looked like the main character from Grand Theft Auto answered.

"Yeah." His voice was smug.

Negan caught the pen he was thrown and removed the lid with his teeth. Everything he did was a power game. Over and over he was showing his dominance over Rick, biting his heels when he didn't comply.

"Ah, sorry kid." Negan apologised, kneeling down beside him. "This is gonna' be as cold as a warlocks ball sack. Just like he's hanging his ball sack above ya' and _draggin'_ it _right_ across your forearm. There you go. Gives you a bit of leverage."

He'd marked off just before Carl's elbow. Tamara raised the hand she didn't have on Abe's leg to cover her mouth and she bit on her fingers.

"Please." Rick tried. "Please don't. Please don't."

"Me?" Negan asked haughtily. "I ain't doin' shit. Ah, Rick, why don't you take your axe – cut your sons left arm off. Right on that line. And I know, I know, you gotta' process that for a second. It makes sense. Still, though. Gonna' need you to do it. Or _all_ these people are gonna' die. Then Carl dies. Then the people back home die. And then you. Eventually. Gonna' keep you breathing for a few years so you can stew on it."

Michonne spoke suddenly.

"You don't have to do this. We understand. We understand."

Negan looked over to her.

" _You_ understand. Yeah, I'm not sure that Rick does. I'm gonna' need a clean cut. Now I know this is gonna be a screwed up thing to ask, but its gonna' have to be like a salami slice. Nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees. Give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. Kid'll be fine…Probably."

Rick was hesitating. Of course he was. He was waiting for the punch line.

"Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop chop. Or, I'll crush the lil' fellas skull myself."

"It could – it could be me. It could be me... You could do it to me. I could go with you." Rick pleaded.

"No, this is the only way. Rick, pick up the axe. Not making a decision is a _big_ decision. You really wanna' see all these people die? You will see _every_ _ugly_ _thing_."

"Hell, are you gonna' make me count? A'right. Three!"

Tamara jolted.

" _Please!_ Please, it could be me. _Please_!" Rick was screaming.

" _Two_!"

"Please don't!"

Negan knelt down and got right in his face

"This is it."

Rick was just wailing now.

" _One!"_

Rick picked up the axe. Tamara bit her fingers tighter, she was struggling to breathe. Carl was saying something to Rick.

Rick raised his arm and-

Negan touched Rick's arm and squatted down again.

"You answer to me." Tamara felt faint with the relief. "You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?

Rick was hyperventilating.

"SPEAK WHEN YOU'RE SPOKEN TO!"

Tamara practically fell over, let alone Rick.

"You answer to me. You provide for me."

"Provide for you." Rick repeated robotically.

"You belong to me. Right?"

"Right." Rick affirmed. And it was done.

"Right! That…Is the look I wanted to see."

Negan picked up the axe.

"We did it." He said to the group, standing up. "All of us. Together. Even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award for sure!

"Today was a productive damn day. Now, I hope for your sake, that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you? That is over now."

He scanned the group.

"Dwight!" He barked. "Load him up!

Daryl was being dragged away.

 _Not another one. No more._

Maggie groaned after him brokenly. Negan was speaking to Rick again.

"He's got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know. I like 'im. _He's mine now_." He addressed the group again. "Now you still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? Not today, not tomorrow…I will cut pieces of…hell's his name?"

"Daryl." Grand Theft Auto – Simon – answered.

"Wow! That actually sounds right!" Negan exclaimed happily.

"I will cut pieces off of _Daryl_ and leave them on your doorstep. Or better yet, I will bring him to you, and have you do it for me." He said to Rick.

He chuckled. "Ah, welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! Gonna' leave you a truck. Keep it, use it to cart all the crap you gonna' find me. We'll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then, ta-ta."

 _One week._

The group began to feel a little safer, and then Negan spun around.

"Oh, and I almost forgot!" He called. "Simon! Load _her_ up too." And he pointed Lucille at Tamara.

Maggie instantly grabbed onto Tamara and shook her head, whimpering.

"Now-now, you guys practically gave me her resume!" He tutted playfully before his voice dropped. "Take her."

No. _No!_

Tamara felt herself being ripped from Maggie and dragged after Negan.

" _Ra._ " Rick choked after her.

She couldn't move and the person dragging her – Simon – was getting frustrated.

" _Walk_." He ordered, but she was frozen. Simon shook her aggressively and Negan turned around, frowning at him.

"Come on, man." He chastised and Simon grumbled before throwing her over his shoulder. The saviours dispersed to their various cars and Tamara watched her family from over Simon's shoulder, getting smaller.

She was shivering violently. Everyone looked so lost. Everyone except Carl, who watched her go before giving her a nod.

* * *

 _Sorry for the wait, guys. I've already started the next one, so hopefully I'll have it up soon. I'm pumped for that 85 minute episode, but scared at the same time. More Negan, though, even if he is a being an asshat. Next up is Tamara's introduction to the Sanctuary, so I hope you're looking forward to that._

 _Chuck me a review if you liked this chapter. The part two of last chapter followed the script of the TV show a lot more, but I'll only be doing that when the story and TV show converge. What did you think of Rick and Tamara's meeting?_

 _Thanks, as always. xx_


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